From the Fair by Shauni Ross (’21)
November 2, 2020
This is the sort of day that one looks forward to.
The sun is bright in the sky as the rays trickle down
onto the metal hinges of the ferris wheel in the distance.
The smell of cotton candy and caramel apples waft through the air.
Music blares, drawing crowds of faceless people to the stages.
Lines spill around metal fencing as bystanders wait anxiously for their turn
on whatever attraction was on the other end.
Kids run through the crowds
headless of where their parents are as the games go on.
Everything is bright and beautiful and full of hope.
It’s all perfect.
But then there’s the small bundle of people behind one of the games,
the one with the darts and balloons, cliche.
So hidden most would simply pass by.
They hover and try not to be noticed as
the world spins around them, oblivious to their existence.
A little farther down there’s another group, hidden
in the shadows of the chain-link fence.
Smoke and smog drift from them in gray clouds
as their dark clothing hides them away.
Then a citizen cheers as she accepts her prize and bells ring in wake of her victory.
It is bright and sunny
and smells of popcorn once again.